


A Bottle Isn't a Home

by Hbrook



Category: Cuphead (Video Game)
Genre: (Will update later), Angst, Boss/Employee Relationship, Closeted gay problems, Coming Out, Cuphead - Freeform, Dice has PTSD, DiceCup, Everyone Is Gay, Friends With Benefits, Gay, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Modern AU, Mugman is suportive, Multi, Smut, The bartender needs a hug, Themes of childhood abuse, There is a little bit of platonic representation, This takes place in a more todayish time, feelings get involved and mess things up, super gay, themes of ptsd
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2019-07-07 22:11:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15917283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hbrook/pseuds/Hbrook
Summary: Cuphead got a new job at The Devil's Casino when the manager decides to have a little fun with him, no strings attached.  Cuphead's world crashes around him, but will he be the only one picking up the pieces? When fun leads to feelings, and no one's sure how to tell, how will the truth come out? And what will they do with it? Will lose ends tie themselves, or will bygones be bygones?





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Thus, a story begins...
> 
>  
> 
> Tumblr: https://brooksandart.tumblr.com/
> 
> Follow us here for possible updates, information, and posts!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus, a story begins...
> 
>  
> 
> Tumblr: https://brooksandart.tumblr.com/
> 
> Follow us here for possible updates, information, and posts!

Chapter One:

Cuphead’s POV:

Cuphead and Mugman stood at the entrance of The Devil’s Casino. They had just landed a job here after running across a ‘Help Wanted’ sign somewhere not too far from their house. So, they filled out a resume, turned it in, and bam, they had a job. Cuphead’s stomach felt a little tight. Kettle did always talk terribly about the place, but he never said why. It was, most likely, just a place to gamble, but the rumors he heard, along with Kettle’s negative views, made him feel uneasy. ‘I heard they deal in souls there,’ ‘I heard The Devil himself runs it,’ ‘If I were you, I’d stay away from there,’ ‘Two good lads like you shouldn’t dabble in such dark places’ ‘its bad news,’. Though, Mugman always brushed it off. It’s probably just hogwash, he’d say, just made up stories, and biased heedings. He figured that it was likely just people trying to be “Anti-Gambling”.

Mugman must have seen the look on his face, because he laid a hand on his back, smiling in a way that said ‘What could go wrong?’ Ironic. Their roles seemed to have switched. Cuphead shrugged in response. It was probably just the name of the place that discouraged him. “The Devil’s Casino” didn’t sound safe.

They opened the doors and stepped inside. The smell of alcohol immediately caught his senses, and the sound of cheers, boos, clinking glasses, and chattering set the atmosphere. Voices of all different pitches were audible, and it felt strange to hear them all at once. He didn’t think he had ever been to a place crowded with so many people.

Looking through the clumps of people, Cuphead tried to spot an employee. Everyone’s clothing was formal, and he couldn’t spot any pattern that hinted at being a uniform. His next thought was to wander and ask around, but before he could mention it to Mugman, a squeaky voice addressed them.

“Hello there, sirs! You look new. Can we help you?”

Cuphead looked down to see someone- someones- who measured up to about up to his chin. They seemed to be a pair of conjoined twins, each one its own half of a domino chip.

“Yes, please,” said Mugman. “We’re here for a job.”

“Ah.” The top chip put his hands on his hips. “You’re looking the manager, then?”

“Yeah.” Cuphead scanned the room again, seeing nothing but people crowded around games and tables. “Would you mind pointing him out for us?”

“Of course not.” The bottom chip turned themselves.

“He’s right over there.” The top chip pointed to a bar sitting near the back of the casino.

“Behind the bar?” Mugman asked.

“Yup.”

“That’s him.”

“Thank you.” Mugman smiled and looked at the man, trying to make out his features from here.

“Yeah. Much appreciated.”

“You’re welcome. I’m Pip by the way,” Said the top chip, removing his hat to hold politely at his chest.

“And I’m Dot,” Added the other piece, leaning into a half curtsey. “If you ever need any assistance, give us a holler.”  
“I’m Mugman, and this is my brother Cuphead.” He gestured to him. “Thanks for the offer.” He smiled. “I will keep it in mind”

Pip and Dot straightened up, the top putting his hat back on before waving. “Good luck.”

For a short moment Cuphead wondered if he should mention that they had already had the job, but then it crossed his mind that they might be wishing them good luck with something else. The Devil’s Casino… He had to be over-thinking the name… right? It was more than likely just a trope to help spice up business. Maybe they had a hard-to-deal-with manager they were wishing them luck with... Mugman thanked them again and turned back to him as the pair walked away.

“So,” Cuphead looked back at the manager. “I guess we’re hitting the bar on the first day of the job, huh?”

“Looks like it… I don’t think we’ll be having anything to drink, though…”

He shrugged. “Probably not.”

As they approached the back of the casino, he was able to get a better look at the man working behind the bar. He was tall, lean, and was a little taller than he would have imagined, making his five foot seven body feel more like it was five foot four. He had a floating die for a head, and his wardrobe seemed to be almost exclusively purple as his suit, shirt, pants, and bow tie were all the same color. 

Once they were in front of the bar, the man behind it saw them, meeting their gazes with a knowing, and charming smile. Cuphead’s chest immediately tightened more, and a warm pooling settled in his stomach. The sudden feeling almost made him pause. He glanced at Mugman, seeing him unaffected… It had only been him that felt that just then…?

“Why, hello there, boys.” The man leaned in on the counter. “I’ve been told to expect you. You’re looking for the boss?”

Cuphead felt his entire body tense. There was something in that man’s voice... Something about him felt wrong.

“Yes,” Mugman replied casually. “Would you mind pointing us in the right direction? That would be wonderful.”

The die pointed to a door even nearer the back of the casino. “He should be back in his office, over there.”

“Thank you,” said Mugman.

The die met his gaze easily though Cuphead felt like it locked.

Mugman lightly tugged his arm, “Let’s go.”

Cuphead forced himself to look away, and he felt something in his chest shift in a somewhat unpleasant manner. They walked away from the man behind the bar, and Cuphead felt slightly conflicted. He was glad to walk away, but he wanted to go back…

“Um.. Cups,” Mugman said lowly. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah…” Cuphead looked at Mugman and then glanced back at the man. “There’s something about that guy that makes me feel… strange... I don’t think I like it.”

“Oh... He felt okay to me.”

Before Cuphead could think about responding, they were already in front of the boss’ office. He started to knock on the door, but he paused before he could touch it… Heat was practically radiating off of it… He gave Mugman a questioning look, which he returned. So, it wasn’t just him this time… He knocked, and there was no response. Cuphead was about to knock again, but then a deep, raspy voice answered.

“Come in.”

Cuphead pushed the door open, and heat practically flooded out, causing him to blink several times to try to adjust. His eyes had trouble taking in the room, but when they did, his heart dropped as if he had missed a step on the stairs. Not only did he open this goddamn door to see that his boss was Satan, realizing this really was quite literally, “The Devil’s Casino” but he also met eyes with none other than the man who had just been behind the bar. He looked at Mugman, who looked back at him nervously.

“Come in, come in,” The devil said, smoke from his cigar escaping his mouth.

At first, Cuphead didn’t move. He just stood there, his eyes hesitantly setting themselves on his new boss, who raised an eyebrow at them.

“Well, come in.” He said a little more forcefully.

Cuphead approached the desk, glancing at Mugman, who was now shaking, to make sure he was doing the same. He took a gulp, meeting The Devil’s gaze again. He felt the die’s eyes burning a hole into his- their heads, and he found it hard to look his boss in the eye, especially with the extra set of eyes on him.  
“Hello, sir.” He said surprisingly steady.

“Hello, boys…” His eyes settled on Cuphead for a moment, and then they moved to Mugman, who visibly jolted. “So, you’re the two who sent in our most recent applications…?”

“... Yes.”

The Devil nodded and blew out a puff of smoke. “I see… Good... Cuphead, you’ll take Dice’s place as the bartender... and you, Mugman, you’ll be a waiter… Do you boys think you can handle that?”

“Yes,” Cuphead said again, biting the inside of his cheek.

The Devil waved dismissively, and said, “Alright, then... Get going.”

Cuphead wasted no time turning on his heel, grabbing Mugman’s wrist, and getting out of there. He could feel his brother’s arm trembling, and it only made their escape feel even more urgent. He didn’t run, but he walked very quickly, and the relief he felt once he stepped outside of that door was unexplainable. The door closed behind itself, and he huffed.

Mugman ripped his arm away, causing Cuphead to practically spin around. The sound of pills rattling in their bottle caught his attention before the actual sight did, and his heart went from its rapid pounding to a dead stop. Mugman’s whole body was quivering so badly that he was struggling to open the bottle in his hand, just as much as he seemed to struggle to suck in gulps of crooked air.

At first, Cuphead was stuck. His feet were nailed down, and his body was still. Eventually, his brain told his body to move, and he walked forward, taking the bottle from him. Mugman’s shrunken pupils snapped up to him, and Cuphead almost dropped the pills. He quickly popped the top open and dumped a couple of pills into his palm. He dropped one into Mugman’s hand, and Mugman let out breath somewhere between relief and exasperation.

Cuphead started to ask if he wanted him to get him a glass of water, but before he could say anything, Mugman had already shoved it into his mouth, and swallowed it dry.

“... Are you okay?”

Mugman took an unsteady breath and closed his eyes as he leaned against the wall. He exhaled deeply, letting his response come out with it. “Mhm…”

It took a little longer than it usually did for his shaking and breathing to calm down, and even longer before he steadied completely. Cuphead leaned on the wall beside him as he waited for Mugman to feel better, looking over the layout of the casino. He started to mentally note where things were, trying not to think about all the previous events. There was a stage near the left wall, a bathroom on the right, an arcade near the front, and scattered game tables just about everywhere else.

While he was examining the game tables, he met eyes with a tall, chubby cigar. He seemed to take their eye contact as an invitation, and walked his way over to them. Cuphead mentally cussed at himself. He should have just stuck to looking at the arcades. He threw a glance at Mugman, who’s eyes were still closed, but he seemed to be doing a lot better.

He looked back in front of him; the cigar was there.

“Ah, there ya are,” The man said, his voice raspy, but lighter than The Devil’s. “Cuphead, and Mugman, right?” He pointed between them as he said their names.

“Yeah,” Cuphead said, standing up from the wall, and offering a hand. “And you’re…?”

The cigar took his hand, and smiled, showing a gap between his two front teeth. “That’d be Wheezy.”

“Nice to meet you, Wheezy,” Mugman chimed in, his voice sounding slightly lulled.

He offered his hand as well, and Wheezy let go of his to shake it.

“Trust me. The pleasure’s mine.” He let go of Mugman’s hand and looked back to Cuphead. “Now that we’re acquainted, we should really get to work. We’ve been short staffed all week, and my boyfriend’s had us rotatin’ shifts like horses on a carousel.”

“Your boyfriend works here?” Mugman asked.

And as if on cue, Dice, who had been walking by, stopped dead in his tracks, and walked up behind Wheezy. “What’s that?”

Dice, for the moment, wasn’t paying Cuphead or Mugman any mind, but Cuphead’s stomach still shifted, and his muscles still tensed.

“Ah, boss. I was just tellin’ ‘em about how you had us rotatin’ shifts-”

Dice knocked him upside the back of his head, causing a flurry of ash to fall loose, filling the air with the smell of cigar smoke. Cuphead just barely kept from coughing.

“Wheezy, I am not your boyfriend.” Dice said casually as he dusted his hand off on his other hand. “Don’t mind him, boys. he doesn’t have a lick of sense.”

Wheezy smiled and turned towards the die as he rubbed the back of his head. “C’mon, boss. You’re no fun.”

“I’m not supposed to be any fun.”

“You’re also not supposed to be-”

Dice gave him an unamused look that made him stop his sentence.

“Right… Now, it’s time to get along to work. Any questions?” He looked away from Wheezy and focused his attention on Cuphead and Mugman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? Let us know in the comments!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter. It's a little short, but we hope you enjoy it.

Chapter Two:

Dice’s POV:

“There’s really not too much to it,” Dice explained. “All you really have to do is walk around, offer people something to drink, and make small talk, if you like.”

Mugman looked around at the crowd of customers. “Right, sir.”

“You might want to pay attention to any games going on. Buzzed customers tend to put more at stake.”

“Okay.”

“People who are already buzzed tend to be open to drink more, if you offer.”

He met his eye again and nodded agreeably. “Noted.”

Dice readjusted the hem of his sleeve and shot a quick glance at the bar. He was really craving a drink. “... I think that’s all you need to know for the time being… Do you have any questions?”

“Yes, sir.” He paused for a second before continuing. “When do we get our schedules?”

“Ah…” He looked away from the bar and back to Mugman. Right… he needed to fix those… “You and your brother should get them by the end of your shifts… You’re all set here, right?”

“I think so…”

“Perfect.” He glanced back over to the bar. “Now to help Cuphead learn the job.”

“Right,” Mugman said, looking nervously at all the people crowding the casino before looking at his brother. “Good luck, Cuphead.”

“Right back at you.” Cuphead laid a hand on his shoulder. “You’re gonna do great, Mugs.”

Mugman smiled and slipped out from where they were standing. Dice met Cuphead’s eye, and they shared a brief moment of eye contact he couldn’t quite read.

“... Have you ever worked as a bartender before?”

Cuphead crossed his arms, his face remaining casual. “No, I haven’t.”

He was showing closed body language… He hadn’t done that earlier, had he? He was slightly curious about his change in dynamic, but decided not to press it.

“There’s not too much to it.” Dice said, starting towards the bar. “There’s a chart book you can use that tells you what is stored where, and how to prepare certain drinks. I don’t think you’ll have any trouble with it, but you can always ask the supervisor on duty for help if you get confused.”

“Right…” He looked back at his brother for a moment before looking back up at Dice. “Who are the supervisors?”

With his craving for alcohol biting at his patience, he half considered telling the cup to not worry about it, and to wing it the best he could, but he knew better. Not only would that not work, but it would come back to bite him in the ass. He bit back a sigh.  
“Of course. Usually there’s either myself.” He said, sitting down on a bar stool. “Mr. Wheezy, or the boss.” There was a short pause before he added, “Sometimes Jack is the supervisor on duty, but he’s part time. Odds are you won’t work under him with how your shifts are looking.”

“Okay.” He got behind the bar and looked at him expectantly. “... Where are those charts?”

Dice pointed to a book that laid in a space on the alcohol shelf. “They should be up there.”

Cuphead took the book down and flipped through it. Dice resisted the urge to drum his fingers on the counter, his mild yearning for alcohol becoming a dull nagging.

“How about you practice on me?”

Cuphead set the book down on the counter and focused his attention back to him. “No, thanks. I think I can handle myself...”

“...” He smiled. “But I insist. A little training couldn’t hurt.”

“Okay…” He crossed his arms again. “How can I help you?”

“Not so fast.” Dice chuckled before standing up from his seat, “A majority of the people that come here tend to ask for our most popular drink,” he pointed at the sign behind Cuphead. “Which is our mixed margarita. I’m assuming you’ve never made one of those before, right?”

“I haven’t.”

Dice sauntered over behind the bar, and pulled four bottles down from the shelf, setting them neatly on the counter. “You’ll need Tequila, Triple Sec, Lime Juice, and Sweet and Sour. Before you fix the drink you’ll need to ask ‘blended or on the rocks?’ and ‘salt or no salt?’” He pulled a shaker down from the shelf. “‘Blended’ is just blended ice, while ‘on the rocks’ is just regular ice, and ‘salt or no salt’ just determines whether you’re going to put salt around the edges of the glass or not.” He pulled over two plates that were lying to the side. “Let’s assume your customer’s ordering a Margarita, blended with salt. One of these plates has lime juice, the other has salt.” He took a glass and dipped the rim in the lime juice, then dipped it in the salt. “And there’s that.” Setting the glass down, he met Cuphead’s gaze. “It’s a fairly simple process. The ice is in a cooler under the counter.” He opened the cooler, and shuffled out a load of ice with the shaker before closing the cooler back again, and dumping the ice into the blender.

“It might take you a few tries to learn to get the consistency right.” Dice said, pressing the button a couple of times, pausing between each time to check if it was right. Once he decided it was perfect, he poured the blended ice into the salt-rimmed cup. “You don’t want the ice to be too thick, or too thin, or else people will complain.”

Cuphead looked at the glass and then back to him. “Got it.”

“Good.” He set the glass down and picked up a bottle. “First you want to add one ounce of Tequila. We have measuring cups under the counter, but the four second rule is much quicker.”

“The ‘four second rule’?”

“That’s the trick.” He tipped the Tequila into the shaker, counted to four quickly, and then stopped. “Four seconds per ounce.”

“Oh… That really works?”

“It’s never failed me before.” He said, picking up the next bottle. “Now you’ll want to add half an ounce of Triple Sec.” He tipped the drink into the shaker and counted to two before setting it back down. “A splash of lime juice,” He adds it. “Fill the rest with Sweet and Sour.” He popped the top on, and started to shake it up, but stopped, looking back up to Cuphead.

His arms were crossed, still, and he seemed to watch him fixedly, his gaze changing slightly when it met his. Dice smiled and held the shaker out to Cuphead. Was there any chance he was tense towards him because…?  
“How about you try and mix it up?”

Cuphead looked at him for a short moment before he took the shaker from him and started to shake it.

“Up-” Dice urgently stepped forward, gently laying his hands on top of Cuphead’s, being sure to keep both the shaker and the top secured. “You might want to tilt it up a little.” He tilted it up, and looked up, meeting his eye, smiling. “Or else you’re going to end up with your drink all over the floor.”

Not only did Cuphead’s pupils dilate, but a light flush spread across his cheeks. He wasn’t intimidated by him… He was... So that’s what it was.

He stepped back, releasing his hands, careful to make sure they lingered ever so slightly. “Now… Try again.”

And Cuphead did, without almost dumping it everywhere this time. Dice walked back around and sat back on his stool.

“Now, from the beginning.” He said, motioning at Cuphead.

Cuphead set the shaker down on the counter. “How can I help you?” He repeated, crossing his arms.

“Ah, well, you can start by uncrossing your arms… You’ll give people the wrong impression.”

“... And what impression is that?”

Dice impatiently fiddled with his sleeve, sound becoming more, and more agitating. “That,” He said. “Is that they’re making you uncomfortable.”   
Cuphead, his face still casual, and somewhat unreadable, hesitantly uncrossed his arms. “Anything else?”  
“I’ll take that Margarita off your hands.”

Now Cuphead gave him a look he could read. It was a questioning look. One you might give someone before making a not so great decision. Dice nodded to assure him, and he let his confused gaze lay on him for a moment longer before he picked the shaker back up, opening it, and pouring it into the previously prepared glass. Dice watched him pour it, green, transparent liquid splashing down into the bottom of the glass. After Cuphead was finished, he put the lid back on the shaker, and nudged the glass in his direction.

Picking up the glass, Dice took a sip of the fruity drink, barely getting it halfway down his throat before a demanding voice called his name from somewhere behind him. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he sighed lightly out of his nose. There was no such thing as a half decent break in this God forsaken place. He stood up, a dull throbbing settling just behind his temple. He would need more alcohol.

Looking to Cuphead, he forced a smile. “Remember, if you need any help, Wheezy and I will be around here… somewhere.”

The moment that last word left his mouth, a hand clasped his shoulder, causing him to turn around.

“Dice,” Wheezy said, looking slightly overwhelmed. “We need someone on table four.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is! What do you guys think? Be sure to let us know in the comments!


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! Things have been busy with school, and we had some trouble with writers block. Anyway, enjoy!

Chapter Three:  
Cuphead’s POV:

It was almost three PM, and his shift was coming to a close. If everyday turned out like today, then first shift would just consist of customers looking for a buzz, and someone to chat with while they waited for their buzz to kick in. During this shift, Cuphead ended up having to learn how to mix seven different drinks, which made him very grateful for that chart book, which he managed to misplace three times already. To his frustration, he was having way too much trouble focusing, and it wasn’t helping his already scrambled state of mind from not knowing what the hell he was doing. His mind kept jumping back to that warm, sick sensation in his stomach, and that touch he was sure lingered longer than it should have. 

Or did it…? He greeted his last customer for the day and took his order. Maybe he was over thinking it. Maybe that was just how Dice was. It didn’t necessarily mean anything… He sighed, topping the guy’s fruity drink with a little umbrella, and setting it down by him.

“That’ll be three sixty seven. Do you wanna pay it now, or put it on your tab?”

“Now is fine.” He popped out his wallet and counted through bills. “... What’s fifteen percent of four?”

Cuphead paused to think, and answered. “Sixty cents.”

He picked through some change, and pulled out a few dollars, handing it to him. Cuphead counted it, pocketing the tip, and dumping the rest into the register. “Thank you.”

“‘Welcome.” He quietly held his gaze for a moment longer before speaking again. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you here before.”

“That’s because you haven’t. Today’s my first day.”

He stirred the little umbrella lightly in his drink before taking a sip. “So I’ve figured.” He smirked flirtatiously, his eyes glinting in mischievous play. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

He paused for a moment, considering if he should even engage. “Cuphead… What’s yours?”

“Brandy.” His gaze trailed down from Cuphead’s eyes and raked over him. “Say…” His voice dropped to a smokey tone. “You don’t have any plans for tonight, do you? Because I have a real terrible thing for cute, short guys with sexy figures…”

His gaze finally found its way back up to his eyes, and Cuphead found himself at a temporary loss for words.

“I…”

Cuphead looked him over for a moment. He was about the average height, decently handsome, and looked like he probably had a gym membership. A twinge of interest stirred in his chest… Was he busy tonight…?

No… But Elder Kettle might want to know where he’d been to… He could always tell him he was going to visit Cala… He let his gaze drift back up to Brandy’s eyes, and he considered his options… Go home, or go home with him… He had been feeling a little pent up lately... and he did miss being touched... but besides that slight stir of interest, he couldn’t find the least bit of sexual feelings for this guy.

He bit back a sigh. He was going to be alone and horny forever. “Actually, yeah, I am.” 

“Aw damn…” He took another sip from his drink. “That’s too bad… Are you sure you can’t squeeze me into your schedule? All I need is thirty minutes to rock your world~”

Cuphead opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, he was cut off.

“Give it a rest, will you, Brandy?” Dice said, plopping down on a stool beside him.

Brandy redirected his gaze to Dice. “Hey, this one was actually checkin’ me out.”

“Just because someone looks at you, doesn’t mean they’re checking you out, Brandy.”

“But this one really was, Dice.”

Dice smiled humorously. “You don’t even flirt right. I seriously doubt it.”

Brandy looked stunned for a moment and then covered his heart in mock-hurt. “Wow. Hurtful…” He smiled again, taking another sip out of his drink. “Though, I ‘seriously doubt’ you can do any better.”

“As you do.” He redirected his attention to Cuphead. “Any chance I can get another drink?”

“Uhm… Sure.” He looked between the two men, curious about what was about to happen. “What’ll it be?”

“A shot of gin, if you don’t mind.”

“Ok.” He pulled the bottle off the shelf, and prepared the drink, setting it down in front of him. “So… How are you not the tipsiest person in this casino yet?”

Dice cracked a smile. “Who says I’m not?” He took the glass from Cuphead, his fingers just barely grazing past his, making his heart skip a beat as he downed his drink.

 

“... You are…?”

He chucked, carefully setting the glass back down. “No, I’m not tipsy, just tolerant.”

“Oh…” Cuphead took the glass and moved it to sit with the other dirty glasses. “I guess if you’re not idiot tolerant, you end up alcohol tolerant.”

Dice smiled charmingly, “I’ll toast to that.”

And there it was. That tightness, and that warm, sick feeling in his stomach. It took him a moment to form thoughts into words, his heart beating a little faster than he would have liked. “Cheers.”

Brandy gave Dice a weird look, and he only smiled in return.

“I really like your shirt.” Dice said, pointing to the solid black fabric that held the outline of a man playing guitar and scattered music notes in white ink.

Cuphead glanced down at it. “Thanks.”

“Do you make music yourself, or are you just a fan?”

“A little for myself. Nothing much.”

“Just for the passion?” There was a short pause, and after a second, Cuphead realized he might have been waiting for him to respond. “I play the piano, but it’s been a while.” His voice trailed off, along with his gaze, but they picked right back up. “What do you play?”

His heart continued to pound against his chest, reminding him of a drum‘s thrumming. He tried to slow it down. They were just talking. There was no need to get so worked up. “The drums-” He almost stammered in correcting himself. “I mean, the guitar. I don’t usually play the drums.”

Dice hummed in acknowledgement. “The guitar and the piano play so… mellifluously together, don’t you think…?”

Cuphead paused, stuck on the response. He fought the heat that threatened to rise up in his face… Judging by the smile on his managers face, and the pang he felt in his chest, they weren’t just talking about music anymore. Cuphead wasn’t able to really think up a response before Mugman came over.

“Alright, Cuphead, we should get going before you wind up late for your classes.”

“Right.” He tore his gaze away from Dice, making himself look at his brother.

Mugman gave him a particular smile and looked over to their manager. “Mr. Dice, if we are not in the system, how should we go about clocking out?”

“Oh.” He tugged at the him of his sleeve. “I’ll have you two in the system by the end of the night. I’ll just write myself a note to make sure I put your hours in for today- And here.” He pulled two folded sheets of paper out of his pants pocket. “Your schedules.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Thanks.” Cuphead pocketed it, and walked out from behind the counter, meeting his brother on the other side. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? Let us know in the comments!


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four:

Cuphead’s POV:

Brandy threw a couple more flirts in Cuphead’s direction, and tried for his number, which he declined with a “Sorry, no.” before they left. The door of the casino shut behind them, and all the clammer from the inside was silenced. Cuphead sighed. It sounded nice.

They got into the car, and Cuphead started it, checking his surroundings before pulling out of the parking lot. There was a click from the passenger’s seat.

“Put your belt on, Cup.”

And he did. “Did you start warming up to everything yet?” His mind went back to the previous anxiety attack, and the nervousness he’d shown before disappearing into the sea of people. 

“Things could be better, but I think I’m getting used to things.”

And by ‘things could be better’, he knew he meant the day had been hell. He flipped his turning signal, checking both sides of the intersection before turning. “That’s good.” He flipped the signal off. “Maybe we should get some ice cream after my classes to celebrate our new jobs?”

Cuphead saw him straighten up a little out of the corner of his eye and smiled.

“Of course. That sounds great.”

There was a comfortable pause in the conversation before Mugman spoke again.

“So…” He said. “Are you still not liking our new manager?”

Cuphead glanced at him, seeing the knowing smile that spread across his face. “I’m not sure…” He thought back to Dice… That ‘bad feeling’ he was having toward him hadn’t been a bad feeling at all…. In fact, it was the opposite. Yet another reminder of his terrible intuition... He realized it when he was helping him learn how to make a margarita and had grabbed his hands. He could still remember the emotional surge, the quickening of his pulse, and the gentle heat like we’re still happening. He couldn’t help but to wonder if his manager had felt something too… Probably not.

“Cuphead-”

He was pulled out of his thoughts, and he shot another glance at his brother.

“Cuphead, pay attention! You just ran a red light!” 

“Oh.” He focused his attention back to the road. “Sorry. I’ll pay better attention.”

“Please do…”

He pushed the thoughts into the back of his mind.

 

Dice’s POV:

Dice kept up the casino for the rest of the night, casually convincing people to bet their souls for an impossible fortune. The simplicity, the sheer lack of difficulty it took to sway these alcohol-buzzed men, never failed to amuse him. What did fail to amuse him was his steadily growing alcohol tolerance. Keeping ‘enough’ in him had become a vital part of his living… He couldn’t imagine carrying on without it.

Finally, his shift came to an end, but the casino didn’t. It continued to buzz and carry on, busy and alive as ever. He sat down in one of the casino’s chairs, taking a moment to acknowledge the slight numbness in his brain. Assumably, it was from the probably from the alcohol… or was it from lack of enough alcohol… Lord knows he’d feel even more numb without it… He took a sip of his iced Brandy, taking a second to savor the dull, sweet fruitiness as he sat back, watching performers on the stage play energetic jazz.

He stayed there like that, quiet, empty-headed, and maybe even somewhat content until there was nothing but ice left in his glass. He let out a sigh and set it down. After pulling another double shift, he was exhausted, sore, fatigued, and ready to sleep. He stood up and tipped the bartender, wishing him a good night before opening a portal, stepping through, and stepping out… at home. He cringed at the thought.

His house. He was at his house... Not his home… He sighed, tiredly dragging himself to his bedroom. He didn’t bother turning on any lights. He kept his house dark. He never had much of a reason not to. He was hardly there. Plopping down on his bed, he kicked his shoes off.

He always thought so much about that word-

He caught himself and huffed. He wasn’t thinking about this again. He spent so much time wanting that feeling, wanting that luxury, but he just couldn’t, and there was no point in stressing it anymore. Home: a feeling he never found. Not in a place. Not in a person. And even though it might be close, not even a substance. And that was it.

Dice rubbed his face tiredly and pulled his blanket back. He was tired of thinking. He needed sleep. He laid down, his expensive, silk sheets freezing to the touch. He pulled his blanket over himself, which was also cold. He knew he would have to wait for them to be warm. No one had touched them since he had slept in them the night before.

He thought about how it would be a little warmer if someone else were in there with him, but he pushed that thought away too.

Stop thinking and go to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment!


	5. 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! School has been kicking ass lately, and I've been super busy, but it's finally here. Enjoy!

Chapter Five:

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_w0iwhEOH3k&t=0s&index=13&list=PLIiIHdfGUxoiwS3cKAP9eEKBaDsW6-gQC

 

Cuphead’s POV:

 

His classes were finally over, and he stepped out of the building, catching the usual darkened sky and chilled air. He zipped up his jacket in attempts to block out the cold, but it didn’t do much. Looking over the parking lot, he could see people getting into their cars and chatting, but no Mugman. He pulled out his phone, checking the time. It was eight fifty-five. He could be a few more minutes.

 

Cuphead plopped down on a bench and pulled his headphones out of his pocket. He had enough time for a song or two. He entered his password; the screen immediately opened to his YouTube playlist. He popped his headphones in, and scrolled through, skimming his playlist for a song he wanted to hear before stopping at one. He looked at it for a moment… He wanted to listen to this one…. He knew he shouldn’t think of him as much as he did… It had been years.

 

He tapped the song. Maybe it would help.

  
  


The piano rang out first, and he closed his eyes, allowing the smooth meleconic sound to press against his heart.

 

**_I’ve been waiting for the day you say you want me back_ **

  
  


**_I’ve been alone, but, baby, I can’t seem to understand_ **

 

He let out a sigh, sinking further into the bench.

 

**_You threw my heart into the flames; I took our pictures out the frames_ **

 

**_I tried to throw ‘em out, but I still keep ‘em just in case_ **

 

**_If you’re wondering if I still love you after so much time has passed_ **

 

**_Since you asked…_ **

 

He never did.

 

**_I don’t really want you back, I just want the life we had_ **

 

**_I don’t really want you back, No I don’t…._ **

 

**_No, I don’t really want you close, I just needed you to know_ **

 

**_That I don’t really want you back, No I don’t…_ **

 

**_And I remember all the times you said you had my back_ **

 

**_But now we’re separated going down our separate paths_ **

 

He blew out another huff of air, feeling the warmth push past his lips.

 

**_You threw my heart into the flames; I took our pictures out the frames_ **

 

**_I tried to throw ‘em out, but I still keep ‘em just in case_ **

 

**_If you’re wondering if I still love you after so much time has passed_ **

 

**_Here’s what I’ll say_ **

 

**_I don’t really want you back, I just want the love we had_ **

 

**_I don’t really want you back, No I don’t_ **

 

**_And  I don’t really want you close, I just needed you to know_ **

 

**_That I don’t really want you back, No I don’t_ **

 

**_But I don’t wanna let you go_ **

 

**_No, I don’t wanna let you go_ **

 

**_Oh, I don’t wanna let you go_ **

 

**_No, I don’t want to let you go_ **

 

**_I don’t really want you back, I just want the life we had_ **

 

**_I don’t really want you back, No I don’t…._ **

 

**_No, I don’t really want you close, I just needed you to know_ **

 

**_That I don’t really want you back, No I don’t_ **

 

**_But I don’t wanna let you go_ **

 

**_No, I don’t wanna let you go_ **

 

**_Oh, I don’t wanna let you go_ **

 

**_No, I don’t want to let you go_ **

 

He sat there quietly for a moment before he opened his eyes. He stared at the phone, blinking a few times before cracking a sad smile..

 

“... I hope you’re doing big things out there, Tyler…”

 

An abrupt “HONK HONK” jerked him out of his thoughts, causing him to look up, identifying the sound as his brother, who was now pulled up in front of him. Cuphead took out his earbuds, and hopped up, opening the car door, settling in. He put his seatbelt on.

 

“Hey, Mugs.”

 

“Sorry for scaring you.”

 

“It’s fine.” He put his earbuds back into his pocket. “You only scared a year out of my life.”

 

Mugman playfully backhanded his elbow. “Do not say that.”

 

Cuphead smiled. “What’ve you been up to?”

 

“Nothing outside the ordinary,” He said, starting to drive. “What about you? Did you learn anything interesting?”

 

For the rest of the ride, they talked about the human anatomy, and some basics on medicine until they pulled into Kettle’s driveway. Cuphead had just finished up his sentence when the car come to stop, and Mugman took the key out of the ignition.

 

“Before we go in... Can we talk about something?”

 

He undid his seatbelt and turned to Mugman. “Sure… Is everything okay?”

 

“Oh, yeah. Everything’s great.” He offered him a smile. “I just wanted to discuss your love life a bit…”

 

He chuckled.  “What love life?”

 

“Exactly… “There was a pause, and Cuphead could tell by the tenseness that Mugman knew he was approaching a subject he knew could go wrong. “Cuphead, are you planning on coming out to Kettle anytime soon?”

 

“… I’ve thought about it….” His gaze trailed over to the window. “I don’t know… I mean, you and Cala being the only ones really knowing doesn’t feel the best… I’d love to be open about it, but I just don’t know… I can’t bring myself to tell him…”

 

There was another pause. “Cup, you know he loves you… He is your dad… He wouldn’t disown you.”

 

“I know… I just…”

 

He sighed.  “It’s scary…”

 

Cuphead crossed his arms. “Yeah… “He looked back at Mugman. “Why? Are you planning on coming out?”

 

“Maybe… Every time it comes up, I get nervous and freeze.” He let his hand slide off the wheel and fall into his lap. “I just want to say it. ‘Dad, I’m bisexual.’” He half threw his hands up in jazz hands and mimicked a sheepish smile. “but I always have trouble making myself do it.” He let them fall back into his lap. “That’s why I asked you. I thought if we did it together, then maybe it would be easier.”

 

“Oh… Yeah… It might make it easier… But I’m thinking I should tell him first, just in case he doesn’t take it well.”

 

“Cuphead… You do not need to do that-”

 

“I do.” He managed a smile. “I was born first, let me take the big brother responsibility for once.”

 

“By four minutes-”

 

“You’re always taking the fall for everything.” He gave him a second to respond and continued when he didn’t. “Let me take this one.”

 

“I,” He thought for a moment, and leaned into the back of his seat. “Okay…”

 

Cuphead sighed in relief. “... Now it’s just a matter of when.” Mugman remained silent. “I guess there’s not too much of a rush to get it done… It’s not like either of us are dating anyone.”

 

Mugman hummed in agreement. “No one to bring home.”

 

“Exactly.”

 

He paused hesitantly. “I also asked because you and Dice seemed to have a little… Chemistry.”

 

“Chemistry?” He repeated, feeling the word on his tongue. His heart quickened. “That was nothing.”

 

“Are you sure? He seemed to like you.” He shifted in his seat. “Or at least, I’d think so. He was flirting with you.”

 

“He wasn’t.”

 

Mugman raised an eyebrow at him. “He was not? Cuphead, you knew it, he knew it, that guy knew it-”

 

“Brandy.”

 

“-Brandy knew it. Even I knew it, and I did not even pay that much attention.”

 

“He wasn’t flirting with me.” Cuphead shifted uncomfortably. “He was proving a point to Brandy.”

 

He looked at him for a moment before he spoke again. “Was it nothing to you?”

 

“I… I don’t know.”

 

A grin spread across Mugman’s face. “You do. You do know.”

 

Cuphead made a noise between a hum of acknowledgement and a groan of frustration as he let his gaze fall back to the window. Why did his brother have to know him so well?

 

“You have a crush on your manager.” He said half teasingly. “You’re not even denying it.”

 

He didn’t answer.

 

“What?”

 

“… I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

 

silence.

 

“... Is this about Tyler?”

 

“… I know it’s stupid.” He fixed his gaze on the star-speckled sky. “It’s been two years, but… I’m not completely over it yet.”

 

There was another pause, tense and similar to the one that started this whole conversation. “Cuphead… What happened with him was really hard… brutal even. You might never get over it completely. You don’t have to get over it to try again with someone else.”

 

“I guess you’re right…” He held his arms a little tighter. “I guess even then, he’s not a good option.  He’s the manager. Wouldn’t that be unprofessional or something? And seems to be comfortable with The Devil… That can’t be a good thing, can it? Not to mention that Wheezy looks like he’s really interested in him...”

 

“Okay…”

 

A beat passed.

 

“Okay,” Mugman said again, his voice returning to a casual tone.  “Let’s go on inside. I’m sure the ice-cream in the trunk is melting.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have anything to say? Let us know!


	6. 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that things have been slow. School has made it hard to stay consistent, but, there's finally another chapter.

Chapter Six:

Cuphead’s POV:

 

The bar was swamped, and it felt like the clock couldn’t tick fast enough. Cuphead’s mind swam with overly complicated orders as he rushed to fix them, another one always ready to be ordered right after the last. Hadn’t Dice told him that this job was easy? Hadn’t he said he wouldn’t have any trouble?

 

He gave out another order, and collected the money, almost tossing himself at the next customer after wishing the last one a nice evening.

 

“What can I get for you?”

 

A regular called his name all the way from the other end of the bar, and he spared him a short glance, deciding he could afford to ignore him for now. He could respond after he finished this man’s order.

 

“A Rum Martinez, if you don’t mind.” He said, looking slightly bothered.

 

_ A what? _

 

“Of course.” He forced a smile.

 

Yet another order he had never heard of. He turned to his recipe book, which he hadn’t been able to close for at least the last thirty minutes, and flipped through the pages. What ever happened to shots and margaritas? Didn’t anyone like those anymore? He saw the recipe, and paused to read it, barely biting back a sigh at the huge list of ingredients.

 

Why?

 

Why him?

 

He hurried to fix it, then gave it him. He took his money. They wished each other nice evenings, and he counted out the change. He would’ve been a little more upset with the lousy tip, but a regular calling him split his attention. He looked up and approached him.

 

“Hey, Brandy.” He smiled. “What can I get you?”

 

He smiled sweetly, looking at him for a moment before saying, “Something simple.” He paused before adding. “On my tab.”

 

He sighed in relief. “Thank  _ god. _ ” He turned and pulled a bottle of liquor down from its shelf, and grabbed a glass from up under the counter. “I’m guessing that your order was calculated?”

 

“Maybe.” He admitted. “You looked like you were dying out here.”

 

“I guess that’s a way to put it-”

 

“Hey,” A guy called a few seats a down. “Can I get a drink over here?”

 

“Yeah- just a moment.” He quickly poured Brandy’s shot and added the charge to his tab before moving to the next guy. “Hello, what can I get-”

 

“Me and my friends would like some margaritas.”

 

“Oh, okay. How many?”

 

“Five.”

 

“Right…” He looked over the guy’s shoulder to look at the guy’s friends, but no one popped out.

 

“They’re at a table.” The guy explained.

 

“Oh. Well, we have waiters around here-”

 

“I know,” He interrupted dismissively. “He was taking too long. Three on the rocks with salt, one crushed with no salt, and one crushed with salt.”

 

“Okay…” He  said, trying to ignore the frustration simmering up in him. “I’ll have your drinks in just a moment.” He turned and grabbed a clean shaker, catching sight of the dirty one. He sighed. He would have to clean it soon. Halfway through making the batch, he realised that he’d been using the wrong liquor, and not tequila. He paused in thought before deciding to continue on. They probably wouldn’t notice.  Once he was done mixing, he set up the glasses, and just as he was getting ready to pour the drinks in, he realized that he’d forgotten the ice, and went back, mixing chunks first, pouring them in, and dumping the extra down the sink, starting again for the crushed. Once he got all the drinks sorted out, he looked them over, going over the list in his mind again. He wanted to make sure they were right.

 

“Alright,” He said, laying the drinks out in front of the customer. “That should be-”   
  
  
  


“That’s not right.”

 

He paused. Had he heard him wrong? “... Excuse me?”

 

“That’s not right.” He repeated irritatedly. “I ordered  two on the rocks with salt, two crushed with no salt, and one crushed with salt.”

 

“No, you ordered three-”

 

“Look,” He interrupted. “It’s not that difficult, just make another one and throw this one out.” He flicked the glass.

 

“Fine.” He said shortly. “Fine. I’ll fix it. Go call your friends over to get their drinks.”

 

The man smirked at him, turned dramatically, and called out to his friends. Cuphead grabbed the drink he complained about and set it somewhere as he pretended to dump it out and fix a new one. By the time the guy turned back around, he was pretending to re-top the drink with a tiny umbrella.

 

“There.” He set the glass back down with the others, letting a smile slip.

 

He let out a cocky huff. “That wasn’t so hard, now, was it?”

 

Cuphead ignored his comment.  “That’ll be sixty-four dollars and two cents.”

 

He counted out his money and moodily tossed it on the counter before leaving. Cuphead counted out exactly sixty-four dollars and two cents. No tip. He let out a sigh, dumping it into the register. He should have spit in his drink-

 

“Hey, Cuphead.”

 

He almost jumped.

 

“Oh, hey.” He turned to see him. “How’s your shift going, Mr. Dice?”

 

Dice gave him a particular smile “You know I watched you do that whole thing, right?”

 

Shit.

 

At least he hadn’t spit in it.

 

“Oh… am I, uh,” Maybe he shouldn’t have done that. “Gonna get in trouble for that?”

 

“Trouble?” He let out a scoff and glanced in the guy’s direction. “No, that guy’s an asshole.” Cuphead felt himself relax, and Dice looked back at him, causing his heart to jump. “You’re fine.”

 

“Thanks.” He was a little surprised at his boss’ ease with the situation, but a little more so at how he felt his stress lessen its hold on him. “Did you need something?”

 

“I’m sure you know the drill by now.” He offered another heart fluttering smile, and Cuphead wondered if it was intentional, or by habit.

 

“Alright.” He started to fix the drink, one he’d made at least one hundred times already, but it always felt a lot more difficult when he knew Dice was watching. He gave it to him. “I haven’t seen you drink any water all day.” He said, looking for something to drag his mind away from the way he was making him feel. “Don’t you feel like shit?”

 

Dice gave him an almost suspicious smile. “Hah, you sound just like my brother.” He downed the shot. “Did he put you up to saying that?”

 

He felt a little dampened at being compared to Dice’s brother. Had he caught on to his feelings, and tried to friend zone him, or was he actually suspicious? “No… Does he usually put people up to telling you to drink more water?”

 

“I can’t say it hasn’t happened before.” He pushed the glass, and shook his head, still smiling. “Now I’m going to hear his voice nagging in the back of my head until I drink something.” He paused, noticing Brandy at the other end of the bar. He gave him a wave before turning his attention back to Cuphead. “A glass of water, please.”

 

Cuphead prepared him a glass of water and gave it to him. He gulped it down.

 

“Hey, bartender! I need a drink over here.”

 

“Yeah, same here.”

 

He looked over his shoulder to see the lined up bar he’d forgotten was packed out. Right. Fun. He tossed a  “I’ll be right with you.” in their direction and turned to face his equipment. Both shakers were dirty, the stash of clean shot glasses was near depletion, and a glance to his left reminded him that he needed to take a trip to the storage room for a new bottle of Tequila and garnishes.

 

He left to go get said supplies and when he came back, he was greeted with a sight he hadn’t expected to see. His manager was behind the bar, chatting and serving drinks. He already did more than half of the dishes. How could he have managed to get so many done so quickly? Dice caught his eye and his heart let out another hop as warm nervousness settled in him. When was that going to stop? He set the tequila and garnishes on the bar and got behind it with him.

 

“You’re helping?”

 

“Mhm,” He turned his attention back to the customer, handing him another colorful drink he’d never seen before. “Watch your head at the tables today, Carry. I hear Wheezy’s feeling lucky.”

 

“Luckier than me?” Carry smiled, tossing Dice a cheeky wink. “I doubt it.” He said, standing up, and sipping his drink.

 

“Alright. Happy playing.”

 

Carry gave a half wave and left.

 

“... You warn your customers?” Cuphead asked. “Isn’t that bad for profit?”

 

“Not with Carry. His pridefulness won’t let him deny a challenge.” He took the next guy’s order and started to prepare it. “Watch. He’s gonna go get in over his head.”

 

“Huh…  devious.”

 

He shrugged and smiled. “I like to call it business.” He scooped up ice out of the cooler. “How about you take the left side of the bar?”

 

And he did. Everything rolled along so much more smoothly now that he had someone to help him, despite how being around Dice made him feel self conscious, like he was under a spotlight, like he was suddenly much more aware of how his every move made more room for mistakes. But, it was better than scrambling to meet the needs of nine fussy customers.

 

After they thinned out the customers, they started chatting as they worked, and soon, they were humoring each other more than they were the customers, and that stagefright Cuphead was feeling eased off.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Let us know you're still here by telling us what you think in the comments!


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been for forever, sorryyyyy,,, We threw a little something in the end to hopefully make up for it. Enjoy!

Chapter Seven:

Dice’s Pov:

It had hardly been thirty minutes, and just as Dice hoped, Cuphead had already started getting comfortable, and warming up to him. Underneath all of that tenseness, there was an entire personality and sense of humor that was, to say the least, nice. And now that he had the opportunity to see it, he got to note his engaging smile, and much smoother movements. There was a hint of clumsiness that followed him around, but not enough to be problematic or awkward. He almost made it look natural. Dice liked it. 

The customers were just thinning out when Wheezy bustled over again. 

“Dice!” He hissed, “Ya can’t just keep-” He waved his hands in frustration, his ashes smoldering a bright red,“-Abandoning your station! We’re dying out there!”

Dice peered over his shoulder to see the growing clump of people crowding by the tables, and tugged at his sleeve. “Ah… Sorry about that. I had to lend Cuphead a hand. I felt bad about leaving him for the vultures like this when he hasn’t had any training...”

Wheezy sighed, and laid his hands on the counter. “Alright, that’s fair, but please,” The red in his ashes dimmed, “Go to your station… He looks like he’ll be fine now.”

“You’re right,” He tossed his rag aside, “Cuphead, you’re on your own.”

“Hm?” He threw him a glance over his shoulder, putting a pause to a conversation with a customer. “Oh, okay. See you later.”

Dice caught a glimpse of disappointment flicker in his eyes, but it quickly vanished, and he smiled. 

“If you feel like you still need help, I could come back on my break.” He offered.

“I think I’m okay now.” He grabbed a glass from the counter, and then a bottle from the shelf. “So you don’t need to.”

Dice smiled, “Alright.” He left from behind the bar, and started for his his station, Wheezy following at his heel. 

“Shit, I can’t remember the last time I felt this overwhelmed…” He sighed, shooting Dice a tired look, “Are ya any closer to fillin’ up these spaces?”

“Any closer?” He adjusted his tie, turning sideways to slip through a gap between two groups of people. “Of course, but not by much. There’s been so much to do-”

“In so little time-” He slipped through the gap behind him, “I know.”

He sighed, “Right… I’m trying, just hang in there.”

“I suppose I ain’t got much of a choice,” He stopped between the two main tables, it was time for them to split, “Just don’t kill yaself over it.”

He shook his head, “I’ll do my best, Wheez,” He managed a smile, “You try not to worry about it. It’s all going to come together.

“Of course it is…” Wheezy’s gaze drifted to his station, “I know you’ll make sure it is,” He dragged his gaze back to him. “It’s just a lot, is all...”

He felt the weight of his voice tug down the corners of his lips. “I know…” He laid a hand on his shoulder. “I know. This whole ordeal has just been dragging everyone down, but you’ve been working your ass off…” Wheezy gave him a strange look, “ Don’t pull another double tonight.”

His eyes widened, “Dice! That leaves ya workin’ all three-!”

“-And I can take it. I wouldn’t offer if I couldn’t-”

“-Dice, no!” His outburst attracted a few stares, so he lowered his voice to avoid gaining any more attention, “I ain’t lettin’ ya do that!”

“Wheezy, you’re going to burn yourself out-”

“-And you’re not?”

“I’m not.” He let the hand resting on Wheezy’s shoulder drop to his side. “After I cover your shift, I can take my day off. You, on the other hand, have a whole, steady work week ahead of you.”

Wheezy fell silent, a conflicted expression playing on his face. “Dice…”

“Wheezy,” One of his legs were getting sore, so he shifted his weight to the other, “I’ll be fine. Go home after this shift, and take some time to take care of yourself.”

“Okay,” He sighed, “But please don’t let me hear that ya had a mental breakdown on the job…”

“I won’t.” He smiled, “Now get back to your station. If you’re gone too much longer, the cards might play themselves.”

“Right. Thanks, Boss,” He returned his smile, “I owe ya one.”

They split themselves between the two crowds and got to work. Exhaustion really sunk into his bones midway through working Wheezy’s shift, and by the time he finished, he hardly had the physical and mental energy to carry himself to the bar. The sounds around him were blurred, and collapsing onto the stool was enough to make him feel ten times more able to pass out than before, so he put his head down on the bar, and rested his eyes. It wouldn’t be the first time he fell asleep in the casino, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

He was just slipping out of consciousness when safety spoke to him, dragging his mind back from behind his eyelids. Dice tilted his head up towards the voice, and popped an eye open, catching his brother’s red attire. A smile tugged at his tired lips, and the edge from today’s stress melted off of his exhaustion.

“Dice?” He furrowed his brows at him. “What are you doing here? I thought I was supposed to take Wheezy’s place.”

“Mm… You were… I sent ‘em home… He was working too hard…”

Jack’s face softened, and he sighed. “You know, you have been working too hard too…”

“Mhm…” Jack wrapped an arm around his side, gently lifting him to his feet. “He was really overwhelmed… Running around like a chicken with his head cut off,” He made a circular motion with his finger, “‘T wasn’t fair for ‘em…”

Jack hummed, “It might have been for the best… But it wouldn’t kill Lucifer to pick up a few extra shifts…” He paused as if thinking, but Dice was too tired to ask what of, “Let's get you home.”

 

 

Cuphead’s POV:

Cuphead spent the next few weeks breaking his back in college, and just flat up lusting over his manager. He tried not to make it obvious, but it was hard when Dice kept encouraging his feelings… He sighed, slipping on his pajama pants, and sliding into his bed, pushing all thoughts into the back of his mind. It was time to get some well-deserved sleep, and the last thing he needed was a one-way trip to Over-thinker’s Ville, where he’d probably stay until two AM. He closed his eyes and waited until he fell asleep, amusing his mind with light thoughts of comfort.

Everything was still. Everything was peaceful. Everything was light and quiet. That was, until something shifted on his bed. He didn’t think too much of it. A new weight settled on his stomach, but it wasn’t too uncomfortable, so he decided to ignore it and try to drift back to sleep. A few moments passed, and there was another weight that held his wrists above his head.

... What was that…?

He felt a kiss press against the nook between his neck and shoulder, and he gasped, his eyes snapping open, “Wha-!”

His breath ripped itself from his lungs, and he froze. A soft, familiar, heart fluttering chuckle decorated the silence, and the silhouetted figure on top of him shifted closer to the light filtering in through the curtains; though, it didn’t need to. Cuphead already knew who it was.

“Dice- Why are you-”

“Shh,” He whispered quietly, “Your brother’s on the bed just beside yours…” He tilted his head, smiling, “You wouldn’t want to wake him…”

Cuphead shivered at the suggestion lingering in his voice. “I…” His mouth went dry, along with the words on his tongue. “...”

“I couldn’t wait anymore,” His voice deepened with lust. “So now I’m here…” One of the hands pinning his wrists wandered down to his chest, and Dice leaned forward, whispering in his ear, “To take what I want.”

Cuphead gasped, sitting straight up in his bed, his heart pounding, and breath gone. He blinked to clear is suddenly foggy vision, and looked around his dark room, Dice’s figure nowhere to be found.

Oh...

It was just a dream.

He laid a hand against his racing heart and sighed. God damnit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any thoughts? Tell us in the comments!


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been forever, but here's another chapter. Sorry for the delay, things have been rough, and writer's block had been a bitch.

Chapter Eight:  
Cuphead’s POV:

His whole body was hot, and sweat clung to his skin. He looked down between his legs to see a lump raised up in the blankets and cursed under his breath.

“Cup… Are you okay…?”

He jumped at the sound, and turned his head to see his brother cozied up in his bed with a book, looking at him worriedly behind the dull, yellow light of his reader’s lamp. It took him a moment to find his voice again.

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m fine.” He sighed, throwing his legs over the side of his bed, “It was just a dream… I need a minute.”

He hopped down, and shuffled past his mess of textbooks and notes on the floor, slipping out to the hall, and shutting the bedroom door behind himself. He went to the bathroom. He needed a cold shower. He flicked the light on, catching his reflection in the mirror before shutting and locking the door. He was a red faced, sweaty mess.

Sighing, he took off his clothes, dropping them to the floor as he turned on the shower, sticking his hand in the cold, running water. He briefly imagined the iciness of it running down his back and frowned. Maybe just a warm shower would do. He turned the knob to the warm side and waited a moment before stepping in.

The water was nice and hot, but not nice enough to rinse him of his thoughts, and not hot enough to burn the memory out of his mind. He stood for a short while, hoping that he’d eventually wash the dream out, but he only thought about it more. The more he thought about it, the more detail he could recall, like the tease that played in Dice’s smile, or the hunger that roused in his demeanor.

He remembered how his hand wandered down his chest, and found his own mimicking the action as he closed his eyes. If the dream had gone on that hand would have gone further, past his stomach, then his V-line, and then his pants, eventually finding its way to his erection. Maybe he would have teased his base before grabbing hold of, and pumping his aching dick, giving him that lustful, teasing smile, only half illuminated by the light- He groaned- Maybe he would have settled himself between his legs, silently holding a finger over his lips in a half smug reminder to keep him quiet. He might have taken his tip into his mouth, his pumping picking up speed as he gently sucked, his tongue peaking out to tease that sensitive spot under it-

-He came, his eyes fluttering open as he sucked in a breath. The world slowly fell back into place around him, and he blinked, wet heat running down his skin.

That….

That just happened…

He leaned against the cool tile of the shower wall, trying to sort through his clearing thoughts... This wasn’t going to help his lusting, was it?

He sighed. 

No, it wasn’t.

There wasn’t any more sleeping that night, and needless to say, the day ahead of it dragged by. He really could have used those few missed hours of sleep, especially since he had a test that day, but apparently the universe had other ideas. On top of that, Dice wasn’t working the same shift as him, so Wheezy ended up being his supervisor, which on it’s own wasn’t terrible. He was nice, and had a light sense of humor, but he wasn’t as attentive and was harder to get ahold of.

Though, he couldn’t blame him… The casino was a packed out war-zone with party lights.   
He had no choice but to manage alone, which; hopefully, helped him get the hang of things a little quicker. His time at the casino ended soon enough, and so did the time at college with his test, which he spent most of wishing he had found the time to study. 

Getting home was the easy part. It was Mugman’s turn to drive, and he could just stare out the window, letting his eyes skim over the town’s features while they blurred themselves into his thoughts.

He couldn’t take a breath of relief until he stepped into his house and the sensations of home charmed him. The light of the warm, crackling fireplace spilled out across the floor, cozying up so nicely against the couch he considered plopping right down and joining it for a nap. The familiar surroundings eased his tired eyes, and the smell of something nice from the kitchen lured him further.

“Dad, we’re home!” Mugman yelled, tossing his keys on the couch, and starting for the kitchen.

“Alright.” He yelled back from his room.

Cuphead went to his bedroom door, taking in the faint smell of jasmine slipping through the cracks as he softly knocked.

“Coming.” Kettle opened it and smiled. “Hey, Cuphead.”

“Hey, Dad,” He smiled back, peering over his shoulder to see the dimly lit bedroom sprinkled with inscents and candles. “... What are you up to in there?”

“I’m praying,” he said, his eyes lighting up with pride. “I felt my connection with God was weakening, so I thought I ought to get a little more spiritual-” He holds up a thick, black book. “Studying The Word. It ain’t no good to let something like that to die out.” 

A mixture of discomfort and annoyance stirred in him, settling into a knot in his stomach. “That’s great, Dad.” He managed a smile. “I’m so, so glad to hear that…”

“Thank you. I already feel so much better.” He pauses. “What did you want to tell me?”

“What?”

“This morning-” He turns to toss his Bible on his bed and looks back to Cuphead. “-You told me you had something you wanted to talk about, remember?”

“Oh, uh…”

He had done that. So confidently, too, but he had managed to let it slip through the cracks of his mind, and now that he remembered and had to do it, he couldn’t possibly feel any more unsteady. Kettle was growing closer to the idea of God and taking more of the Bible to heart. There was no way he could tell him he was gay. To him that would be wrong. Wrong, wrong, a thousand times wrong. What would he even think about his son- his sons- committing such ‘sins’? Would he be upset? Or distraught? He knew his dad believed people like him went to hell. How would he handle the thought of his kids, in his mind, being doomed to hell?

A lump formed in his throat and he forced an apologetic smile. “.. I forgot. Sorry.”

He frowned. “Lost your thought? ‘M well… It’ll come back, eventually.”

Cuphead nodded.

How could he ever tell him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you guys think? Let us know in the comments! 
> 
> P.S: Comments are really nice and motivational. They help the fic get written faster


	9. 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally did it ^^" It took forever to get this done, and its been in the works for weeks.

Chapter Nine:

 

Dice’s POV:

 

Dice shuffled all the mental baggage and chaos from work behind the door and shut himself into the quiet of the break room, hoping he could successfully steal these ten minutes for himself. He sighed as he plopped into a chair. This workload was ridiculous, and even though he signed his soul away in a contract that implied questionable circumstances, he never thought The Devil would push him so far past his boundaries, knowing he was a mortal…

 

He wanted him alive…

 

right…?

 

He sighed, slouching into the chair’s back. Of course he wanted him alive. If he died because of The Devil’s negligence, Jack would rip him a new one, and he knew it… His gaze drifted to a neat stack of papers sitting on the corner of the table, dragging his mind back to the only solution to this problem. He needed to get around to hiring more workers. If he could do that, things would calm down, and he could finally get some actual rest.

 

He rested his head on the table and closed his eyes. As shitty as things were, he couldn’t say it was all bad. Flirting and socializing with Cuphead proved to be entertaining enough and served as somewhat of something to look forward to, and his brother had spent more time in town than usual. He sighed. He hadn’t made time to squeeze anything fun or to smile about in his life and was surprised that something nice happened to fit itself in instead.

 

The door behind him opened, and chattering broke the sweet, sweet quiet from before.

 

“Ey, Boss!” Chips chirped. “Wake up, mate!”

 

He picked his head up, and turned to them, managing a smile. “I’m awake.”

 

“Wow, ya look like shit,” Wheezy said, plopping down beside him.

 

“Thanks-” He shifted upright in his chair. “-The sleep deprivation and ridiculous work ethic really makes my eyes pop, don’t you think?”

 

“Sure,” Hopus said, gathering around the table with them, “If you consider heavy bags and dark circles ‘popping’.”

 

“Hah…” Dice nodded to Pip and Dot as they joined them at the table. “If you think this is bad, you should have seen me this morning before I cleaned up…”

 

“Tell me about it-” Wheezy rested his head in his hand, lazily scanning the room. “-Where’s the rest of the team?”

 

“On their way.” Pip made a dismissive gesture, and Dot added, “But we closed up shop, and they should be here soon.”

 

Dice hummed and looked back to Wheezy. “Is Newby making it back tonight? I know he mentioned something about having a medical thing today.”

 

“He should. That’s not till later.”

 

“That’s good… It will really be helpful if everyone’s here.”

 

“Yeah,” Hopus said, grinning as he tossed his top hat on the table. “Lucifer might be missing. Said something about having things to do tonight.”

 

Dice closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he ran a hand over his face, forcing his voice to stay calm. “... Again?”

 

“Again.” He chuckled. “He’s surprisingly… inattentive towards his own business.”

 

“We’ve noticed.” Wheezy straightened up, his posture still tired.

 

“I suppose we’ll have to make do…” He looked around at his employees. “After all… We always have. The Boss has Hell to look after... We’ll just have to pick up the slack.”

 

Chips hummed, and the door opened again.

 

“Hey, guys!” Newby quickly joined them at the table. “Thanks for waiting up on me.” He smiled apologetically. “I was stuck at the stoplight on Side Set for ages.”

 

“Don’t worry about it.”

 

Dice perked up and turned to see his brother standing behind him. “Jack.” He smiled. “I was wondering when you’d be here.”

 

“I was starting to wonder  _ if  _ I’d ever be here.” He smiled softly, rolling his eyes.

 

“Yeah,” Chips said, smiling. “Me too. I was wondering if ‘Lucy’ was keeping you up.”

 

Jack shook his head and laid his hands on the table. “Alright… so, first order of business, I think we should let Mugman join the team.”

 

\----------

 

The meeting started off well and productive, it really did, but now everyone was was chatting and exchanging banter on their Christmas plans. 

 

“ _ I  _ think we should party at the Drunken Songs.” 

 

“The nightclub?” Dice asked, smiling and raising an eyebrow. “I never took you as the type, Wheezy.”

 

He chuckled. “Why not? Good alcohol, good music… good women-”

 

“Good men,” Jack cut in, sharing a humored look with Wheezy.

 

“...I suppose so.” Dice let his gaze trail away. “But I think I’d rather spend the time sleeping.”

 

“Ya spend all your free time sleepin’. Don’t ya think ya need a little time to..”

 

“Let loose?” Jack finished. “It might prove to be worth your time.”

 

“Yeah, boss,” Wheezy got up from his chair, and walked behind Dice, rubbing his shoulders. “Were all worried about ya….” Dice relaxed into his touch. “I’ll tell ya what, how about ya sleep the day before-”

 

Jack cut in again, “Eat a decent meal, have something to drink-”

 

“And then we’ll pick ya up,” He massaged deeper into his shoulders. “You might could even get a good lay if you felt like it.”

 

“Mm…” He relaxed further into his touch. “That does sound nice…”

  
  


Cuphead’s POV:

 

Once again, Cuphead found himself sitting criss cross on his bedroom floor, buried under a pile of textbooks and loose leaf notes, tired and close to burnt out. 

 

“ _ The Drunken Songs?” _

 

Mugman ignored his shocked response and continued his sentence, “Yes, to go out and- Why are you looking at me like that?

 

“Sorry, I’m just… “ He paused, trying to let his tired mind find its words. “A little surprised… It’s not something I’d expect from you.”

 

He smiled. “Oh… well… I guess you’re right… but back to the point-” He took his glasses off and laid them on the bedside table with his book. “I think we should go over our Christmas break. Maybe blow off some steam and refresh ourselves.”

 

“Blow off some steam…” He repeated to himself. So Mugman was looking for… “Sex?”

 

“That’s the ticket.” He came over to his mess and started shuffling the papers together. “And socializing-” He saw he was about to say something and gave him a look that stopped him, “ _ Real  _ socializing. Work and school don’t count… I can’t remember the last time I saw you really spend time with someone.”

 

“I guess I could invite Calla…”

 

“Great idea,” He piled up some more papers, starting to load them into his binder. “You two bring out the best in each other… It should be plenty of fun.”

 

Cuphead paused, processing his words. “You’re doing it again.”

 

“Doing what?”

 

“Trying to take care of me.”

 

He took a second to try and come up with something, and when he couldn’t, he sat down, smiling. “I can’t help it, you’re bad at it… I just don’t want to see you in bad shape…”

 

“Hah… Yeah, I’m pretty bad at it… I guess I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

 

“Sleep deprived, hungry, probably trying to stomach raw rice.”

 

“Hey!” He said defensively, chuckling. “My cooking isn’t that bad.”

 

“You think so?” He asked, “I bet if you had to make your own dinner you would reconsider…”

 

“Ah...haha, let’s not get rash.”

 

Mugman laughed.” M… Yeah.” He moved the rest of his things into a neat pile. “Anyway, bedtime.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment ^^ It'll help me write faster


	10. 10

**Before you read the fic, please read this.**

**Hbrook here.**

**I'm so sorry that I've been so long; things have been completely hectic on my end. I recently had to drop out of school because triggers were effecting my health way too badly, my parents are divorcing, it's definitely not pretty, and it hasn't made them any less abusive. On top of that, my sister picked up a dog that we fell in love with, and we just took him to the vet yesterday and he has an advance mouth infection, and needs almost all of his teeth removed. My parents are not helping the costs and I'm looking into getting a job so I can try and earn enough. I'm offering services on the side and my sister is opening up art commisions. If you'd like to help, or are interested in our services, our Ko-Fi is https//ko-fi.com/toastandbwian (I'm Bwian), my Tumblr is brooksandart, and my sister's commision's page in on Instagram @_violate_toast_**

 

**Some services that I'm offering are:**

 

**Writing fanfiction of your choice (As long as I'm wellish informed on the fandom) and it can be as NSFW, kinky, SFW, or vanilla as you want it. Angst, fluff, whatever suits your fancy**

 

**Drawing art of your choice**

 

**That's all I have for the moment, but my list is constantly growing, and you can check in on it on our Ko-Fi.**

 

**Don't be shy to reach out and ask questions if you like.**

 

 

 

 

**I hope you like this chapter! Please leave a comment bellow, it would mean the world!**

 

 

 

 

Dice’s POV:

 

Dull party lights and a boring sign painted with booze and cigarettes. That’s what he saw. 

  
  


He was going to hate tonight.

  
  


His eyes passed over the building. It was small and old, tethered from weathered bricks. If you’d never been inside, you’d never guess there was a nice thing about it. He sighed, taking another drag from his half dead cigarette. He already wanted to go home.

 

Wheezy came out of the car to join him. “Are ya ‘bout done with that?”

 

“Yeah-,” He flicked it out from between his fingers, exhaling smoke and frozen air. “I suppose we should get tonight over with…”

 

“Ah, don’t look so down.” He laid a hand on his back. “You’re gonna love tonight.”

 

“I sure hope so... I’d hate to be dragged out of bed for a dud.”

 

“It ain’t gonna be a dud.” He smiled reassuringly, “You’re gonna love it.”

  
  
  
  


Cuphead’s POV:

  
  
  
  


“Glitter? Or no?” Calla asked, holding up two sets of heels.

 

“Glitter.” He readjusted the buttons on his shirt, brushing out any wrinkles. “You look really good all sparkly.”

 

“Thanks, Oh-” She popped the glittery pair on, checking herself in her full body mirror, “That reminds me! I got body glitter just for the occasion.” 

 

He smiled, “Going all out?.” 

 

“Of course,” She grinned as she brushed an eyelash off her face. “Who would I be if I didn’t?”

He smiled as she pulled the little set out of her bag, beginning to blot some on her face and neck. 

 

“You know…” She tilted her head to get a spot on her jaw, “I think you’d love this stuff.”

 

“What makes you think that?” He looked around her to get a peak of himself in the mirror.

 

“Well, it’s flavored-” Cuphead raised an eyebrow at her, “-And it draws extra attention.” She met his eye in the mirror, and smiled. “You won’t be able to get his eyes or lips off your neck.”

 

He almost shivered at the thought. “...Who…?”

 

“Whoever you want.” She finished patting the glitter on her neck, setting the sponge-brush back into its container, tracing her lips with her index finger, triple checking to see that her lipstick was neat.

 

That did sound nice… “...Ok, I give.. Glam me up.”

 

She turned to him, grinning her contagious grin, “I knew you’d want to!” She grabbed the sponge brush again, immediately picking at the top buttons of his shirt. “You’re going to be beautiful.” 

 

“I’m not already beautiful?” He asked, mimicking a hurt tone.

 

She spread it across his neck, “Sure you are, but now with sparkle,” then his neck, and even some around his collarbone, going surprisingly fast compared to the speed she used on herself. “There.” She stepped back to look over her work, nodding in approval. “Now you’re sparkly  _ and delicious!” _

 

Cuphead rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help but to laugh. He really had missed her. “So, everyone’s getting dicked down tonight, huh?”   
  


“Who said anything about getting dicked  _ down? _ ” She gave him a smuggish smile, “I’m getting dicked  _ up.” _

 

“That’s some real big dick energy, Cala.” 

 

“Mhm~” She smiled wider, twirling, watching her dress twirl in the air with her. “Tonight’s gonna be a blast.”

 

Cologne, perfume, deodorant, and lyrics played in the air around them as they finished getting ready, sharing innuendos and packing little ‘Just-In-Cases’. They were snacking up when Mugman busted in.

 

“Hello~” He flung a hand-full of condoms into the air, “Now go get laid, bitches.” 

 

The condoms rained down on them as they laughed, reaching out to try and grab them, some hitting the ceiling fan and flinging out further.

 

“You don’t have to tell Cup twice,” She grinned, dropping a couple into her bag, “I think he already has a target in mind.”

 

Cuphead rolled his eyes, chuckling. “Sure, like he’s going to be there.”

 

Cala and Mugman shared a look.

 

“Actually…”

 

A clever smile spread across Mugman’s face. “He will be.”

 

“What…?” 

 

“Mhm.” He vaguely checked himself out  in Cala’s mirror, picking something off his shirt. “The whole team’s planning to get out to party tonight.”

 

“Oh…” Excitement picked up in his chest, playing nervousness in his stomach. 

 

Tonight was going to be a lot more interesting than he expected.

  
  


Three drinks in and he’d already lost sight of both Cala and Mugman in the crowd. He was close to going back for another, the hot atmosphere pulling stress out of him like sweat, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to interrupt the hands running down his sides, playfully pulling him back against the stranger behind him. He moved into them, falling back into rhythm as his mind melted once again.

 

There was nothing but the music, this heat, this touch, and this feeling, sweat and bliss mingling as if they were the same thing.  

 

“ _ You’re an amazing dancer.” _

 

He could hardly make out the words through the blaring background and his soft tone.

 

He smiled, tilting his head to look at him, “Thank you,” He turned around to lay his hands on his chest, pressing himself closer, dancing, finding himself feeling closer, and closer to home in the hands holding his hips.

 

The man, Arrio, from what he caught earlier, with a cute little R roll in the middle, opened his mouth to speak again, but jerked back, his hands leaving him, his hips feeling slightly bare from the sudden loss.

 

“ _ Arrio!” _ A girl from behind him hissed, holding his forearm tightly, “It’s really time to go!”

 

He sighed, asking if they could spare fifteen more minutes, but she shook her head, her posture set like angry stone. Looking back at Cuphead, he smiled apologetically, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket, setting it in his hands. “Call me, precioso, por favor~.” 

 

Cuphead cocked his head slightly, offering a sweet smile when he winked, his heart lightening even more. 

 

The guy and his friend disappeared immediately, being swallowed by the starving crowd. 

  
  


_ Precioso…  _  He smiled again, looking down at the paper in his hands.  _ Amazing Dancer. _

 

He could definitely get used to being treated like that again.. 

 

He put the note in his pocket, starting for the bar. Now, he was going to get another drink.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	11. 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for how late an short this is! One of us has currently been really busy working and trying to get his ducks all in a row. Thank you for all your feedback and support! We plan to have another chapter out sooner!

Dice’s POV:

 

Mediocre was the best way to describe tonight. No amount of flirting, dancing, or booz was enough to amp up his energy, and if it wasn’t so loud, he could probably knock out right now. He shook his head, downing the rest of his drink. Sleep was the best thing he could do for himself. He was going back to the house.  He half waved the bartender off, wishing him a good night before leaving a small handful of cash. The change would be a little much for a tip, but he knew he wouldn’t mind. His brain wasn’t anywhere close to being capable of math. 

 

He took a quick check into his magic levels, hoping he had enough to portal himself out, but he didn’t. Sighing and tiredly sidling through the alcohol and sweat bathed crowd, he wished he’d brought some Mirical5, or better yet a shot of 50Blue2. Hell, whoa is him, he didn’t even have a ~MagicBoost~ on him and he almost never left the house without one.

 

Lucky. He was such a lucky man.

 

Somebody bumped into him, spilling their drink all over the front of his shirt, obliviously continuing forward.

He really wasn’t in the mood to be here.

 

A glance at the red EXIT sign told him he was almost out, but a familiar figure brushed past him, mumbling a ‘scuse me, sorry.’ not even bothering to look up. He would’ve continued; it could’ve been anyone from a customer to a friend, but cologne caught his senses and a dash of excitement seized him. He turned, catching sight of Cuphead’s back side slipping out towards the bar. Now that was something that could be worth staying for…

 

But sleep.

 

He forced his brain back to the topic at hand. He needed sleep, not sex with his co-worker.

 

Cuphead sat down at the bar, keeping one leg propped on one of the stool’s beams, the other hanging loosely as he chatted with the bartender. He seemed happy and relaxed, his smile easy and inviting. He couldn’t help but to let his gaze drop, noticing his tight pants, not leaving much to the imagination, and his partially unbuttoned shirt, probably from some naughty play on the dance floor. He hummed to himself, already roused by the thought.

 

...Sex was great for you too, and he could sleep after. Thirty minutes couldn’t possibly dent his rest, could it?

 

He started his way for the bar, noticing a shimmer on his neck. Was that-

 

He paused halfway through a step, almost tripping over his feet. Did he just….? He took a breath before starting back again, losing sight the guy as he weaved through the crowd. Cuphead turned his attention back to his glass and Dice quickened his pace. He considered calling out, but he doubted that he’d be able to hear him over all the noise. He lifted his glass. 

 

Shit.

 

He started to bring it to his lips. 

  
  


No. 

 

He tipped the glass-

 

Dice snatched it from his hand, just barely avoiding spilling it over the both of them. “I wouldn’t drink that.” 

 

He stared up at him,shocked, his smile wiped clean as his eyebrows questioned him “....?”

 

“I…” He swallowed, managing a smile, his confidence suddenly wavering. “I think I saw someone put something in here..” He pointed at the drink.

 

“Oh.” He blinked and scanned the room before meeting his eye again, gesturing for him to come closer. He bent forward slightly, expecting him to whisper something about a suspected person, but he gestured again, so he bent further. His smile creeped back onto his face and he leaned forward, pressing a kiss against his lips. “Thank you.”

 

It was a quiet, short string of words, but he couldn’t remember the last time something was able to tangle up his thoughts like that. It was just a kiss; two words, but it was enough to hit him with the force of half his limit in stimulants. He took hold of his chin, gently tilting his head to the side so the glitter under his neck caught the light better. “Hitting on your boss?” He moved forward to take another taste of his smile. “Bold move.”

 

Cuphead bit his lip, leaning back against the bar, bringing Dice with him by the front of his shirt. “Mmh… And would it be ‘bold’ or stupid to sleep with your boss?”

 

He laid his hands on his thighs, pushing them past his hips and resting them in the dip of his back,“Stupid-”  He dove in for another kiss, biting at his bottom lip, “Very stupid.” He felt him smile more into the kiss as he let out a light, humored breath. Hell, why would he want to resist this? Any and all restraint fell away like a loose petal in the wind, and he tugged Cuphead closer, hiking his thigh up to his hip, half running his hand up it. “You plannin’ on bein’ stupid and bold in the same night?”

 

“Maybe I am.”

  
  
  
  
  


Cuphead’s POV:

 

And by maybe, he meant yes. Definitely. Surely. Certainly. Without a doubt. He was halfway through opening his mouth to say something else when his head went light and the chair disappeared from under him. He gasped, clinging to the front of Dice’s shirt. The drop pulled a yelp out of him, but was surprisingly short, smooth, and soft.  He let go of Dice’s shirt, grabbing the surface beneath him, getting handfuls of sheets. He relaxed back into the kiss, letting out a huff of relief.

 

“You could have warned me.”

 

“Could have,” He pulled back just enough to duck his head under his chin, softly drawing a gasp out of him with his lips, “But I had a feeling you wouldn’t mind~”

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Comment?


End file.
